That One Crazy Night
by Meum Cerebrum Nocet
Summary: Rose wakes up in a strange flat with no memory of the night before, but extremely sore muscles. What exactly did she get up to the night before? Scorose.


_**Summary:**_ _Rose wakes up in a strange flat with no memory of the night before, but extremely sore muscles. What exactly did she get up to the night before?_

 _ **Disclaimer:**_ _I own no recognizable content._

* * *

 **That One Crazy Night**

* * *

 _One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor_

 _~George Carlin_

* * *

Warm sunlight trickled through the open blinds. The rays landed across her face and she stirred at the light. She rolled over so the rays of the sun landed on her left ear and warmed her face. Then she slowly stretched out her muscles. However, she found them stiffer than she had mornings previously and some even radiated a numb pain after she moved them. She began to search her mind for an explanation for the soreness, but found most of the events and happenings of the previous night clouded.

She remembered leaving work and meeting up with family and friends at the Sleazy Kneazle to ring in the New Year. However, after that, things became much more fuzzy. There were drinks, a lot of them. There were cheers and laughter. She most certainly enjoyed herself. Perhaps her sore muscles were from some dancing she didn't remember. She'd done some fairly questionable things in the past while under the influence of alcohol.

Deciding some hangover potion would be beneficial to her memory recall, Rose Weasley opened her eyes and moved to get out of bed. Instantly, she regretted it. Her muscles protested the movement most strongly and her head quickly joined in as a pounding headache erupted as a result of the moment and the bright light from the sun. She flopped back down on the bed.

Moving was apparently not an option.

It was a good thing Rose kept a store of hangover potion in her medicine cabinet, within reach of an accio charm. She slowly and carefully rolled over, trying to move as little as possible so as to cause as little pain as possible. She always kept her wand on her bedside table when she slept so it was nearby. It had become such a habit that Rose would do it no matter what state she was in.

Rose finished her roll and froze.

That was not her bedside table.

* * *

Rose sat wedged in a booth at the new 'it' magical pub in London. Hidden down a back alley, the Sleazy Kneazle offered both magical and non-magical food and drinks, a popular option in the very accepting climate. That night, New Year's Eve, it was packed with joyful partygoers. As a result, Rose and her cousins were squished into a single booth. Occasionally, one of her cousins would leave to get another drink, visit with someone else, dance on the small and overcrowded dance floor, or various other reasons. However, at that moment, there were eight bodies in a booth made for six.

Finally, the claustrophobia became too much; Rose had to get out of the booth and get some fresh air. However, she was right in the middle with three people on her right and four on her left. She'd have to disturb a lot of her family to get out, so she'd need a good excuse.

"Next round's on me," she spoke up, quickly getting everyone's attention. The family members had been taking turns buying rounds of drinks for everyone, but as Rose was a healer-in-training and not making much, she'd been holding off until later in the night. If she waited long enough, she may not need to buy everyone a drink, or they'd all be so drunk that she could get away with buying the cheap stuff. However, her claustrophobia had outweighed her miserliness and she'd offered her round.

"What does everyone want?" Rose asked as her family shuffled out of the booth to let her through.

"Double firewhiskey," Albus, who was squeezed in beside her, requested. James asked for the same, while Lucy and Roxanne both requested a muggle vodka martini. Fred asked for some over-complicated fruity drink that he had to repeat four times before Rose could remember it all. Finally, Molly, who had agreed to be the designated apparator and ensure everyone got home safely, ordered a coffee with two sugars.

Rose carefully made her way across the crowded bar area of the Sleazy Kneazle. Her plan was to place the order, direct the waitress to the table, and then slip out to the back into the alley for some air. But before she could slip out to the alley, she had to make her way through the sea of humanity that was currently in the fairly small pub.

"Rose?" a voice asked from the crowd. It took her a while to locate the answer, but when she did, a smile broke out across her face. "Long time, no see!"

* * *

A quick inspection of the room revealed that nothing in the room was hers. Not the bed, not the dresser, not the elegant off-white walls. This was not her room. And she had absolutely no idea whose room it was. She couldn't remember what had happened the night before, let alone whom she'd left with.

The room itself wasn't helping with her recollection. It was annoyingly non-descript and void of personality. It looked exactly like the model bedroom in a housekeeping magazine; like someone had walked into the store with the magazine and just bought all the furniture without even thinking about personal taste.

On top of the personality-less room, there wasn't a single personal picture in the room. There was tasteful art on the walls, but no pictures of recognizable people.

Rose swore under her breath, her frustration mounting as a result of her pounding headache. Deciding that, before she did anything else, she needed to deal with her head. The pain was definitely hindering her mental abilities, and she couldn't think clearly.

After a few minutes, she was able to coax her sore muscles out of bed and into a standing position. She then carefully began picking her way through the bedroom in search of the bathroom. That, for Rose, was the most logical place to keep an illness remedy.

There were three possible doorways in the bedroom: the closet, the bathroom, and the hallway towards the rest of the flat. The closet doors were folding, so Rose immediately ruled those out. however, there weren't really any distinguishing features between the two doors, nothing that made it clear which was the bathroom and which was the hallway. She'd have to take an educated guess and hope for the best.

Doing some quick estimating of the layout of the flat, Rose carefully made her way to the farthest door, believing it to be the bathroom. When she reached it, she pressed her ear to the door, trying to se if she could hear anyone moving around within it. Because of the unfamiliarity of the place, Rose didn't want to just barge in on a possible stranger while they were in the bathroom.

When she heard nothing, she turned the doorknob and gingerly opened the door. She'd guessed correctly and found the bathroom empty. Like the bedroom, it was kept extremely neat. Shower products were carefully arranged on a shower caddy. Linens were housed in a small, yet elegant linen cabinet. The sink was devoid of all toiletries save a single glass with a simple green toothbrush contained within it.

Once again, devoid of personality. Though something, and Rose couldn't put her finger on what, felt vaguely familiar about the rooms. However, the pounding in Rose's head didn't allow her to puzzle over it.

The pounding brought her back to the task at hand. She turned to the small medicine cabinet on the wall beside the sink. The contents within, a razor and shaving gel, made it clear to Rose that a male lived here and he didn't share the room with a girlfriend. That dissuaded some of Rose's guilt; she wasn't a home wreaker, at the very least.

Finally, Rose located a small vial filled with hangover potion. She greedily downed it and, as soon as the liquid passed down her throat, her headache was gone and her body no longer ached. Now, with one problem solved, Rose turned her mind to the much bigger one.

Where the hell was she and what the hell had happened the night before?

* * *

"Rose?" a voice called from the crowd. There were literally people everywhere, pushing in on her, so she couldn't locate the source at first. Because it was New Years Eve, the normally busy pub was packed to the rafters, as they say. Rose quickly began to swivel her head around, trying to spot a familiar face in the crowd, one who could have called out her name.

A hand clamped gently on her right arm, and Rose's head quickly snapped in that direction. When the hand initially made contact with her arm, Rose's body tensed, believing and expecting the worst. However, when she saw the person who had touched her, her body relaxed.

"Long time, no see!" Scorpius Malfoy spoke, a brilliant, almost perfect smile crossed his face. Rose found it endearing that his smile wasn't perfect; a Quidditch accident had resulted in a small chip in one of his front teeth. Rose had always equated his imperfect smile to be like a metaphor for the man himself. At a glance, he seemed like the epitome of perfection: good looking, wealthy, whip smart, an excellent Quidditch player, and extremely kind to everybody. However, if you looked closer you would see the chip, see the weight of his family name and the legacy that went with it. See the times he'd failed to perform a spell. See the times he hadn't caught the Snitch. See the times he'd miss-answered a question. See the times he'd gotten angry with someone and physically fought them.

"Scor!" Rose exclaimed, smiling just as wide, if a little less brilliantly, "it has been months! What have you been up to?" Rose and Scorpius had been in the same group of friends at Hogwarts, bonded by their relationship with Albus, Rose's cousin and Scorpius' best friend. However, since leaving Hogwarts, the two had few reasons to remain in contact and, as a result, had drifted apart. The last time Rose had seen Scorpius was a few months before in late October at a silly Halloween get together Albus had hosted.

"I've been busy. Auror training and all that. The auror office has implemented a new program in which more senior aurors-in-training run the newer recruits through basic drills. Well, James is our trainer and he is quite the drill instructor. He's got us running some crazy drills and doing them an insane amount of time. Some days, I'm so exhausted by the time I get home that I just collapse into bed. This is the first time in weeks that I've got time off and have the energy to leave me flat. How about you? How is your healer training going?" As Scorpius had spoken, he and Rose had moved out of the crowd and headed towards the bar.

Rose took advantage of the brief pause in conversation to order her cousins' drinks and direct a waitress to the table where her cousins were sitting. She and Scorpius then ordered their own drinks and remained seated at the bar. Talking to Scorpius at the much less crowded bar, while not fresh night air, was better than being squeezed in a booth with too many people.

Having done her duty, Rose turned back to Scorpius and prepared to answer his question, to fill him in on her life up to that point.

* * *

With her head clearer, Rose left the bathroom and headed back into the bedroom. She needed information, clues, about who lived in the flat. There was nothing helping her in the bathroom, no prescription potions with names, or cologne with a scent that Rose recognized. In fact, all of the cologne bottles were barely used, like the owner didn't normally wear such things.

Rose left the bathroom and returned to the bedroom. This room, likewise, was not helpful either. There were no pictures of people, no scraps of paper with any type of information, no distinct books, nothing that acted as a clue. Rose even went through the closet and dressed, looking for a sweater or accessory item that stood out to her. The only thing she did discover was that the person was a Slytherin, which narrowed the possibilities, but not by much. Her Slytherin cousin Al had introduced Rose to several of his Slytherin friends throughout the years so it was entirely possible she was at the flat of one of those people. It was also possible that she'd met a random Slytherin while out the night before and made the decision to go home with them.

Giving up on finding anything helpful where she was, Rose headed out into the rest of the flat. The hallway between the bedroom and all the other rooms was likewise unhelpful. Only professional artwork and no personal pictures hung on the wall.

Rose was growing more and more frustrated with each step that failed to produce any clues. By the time she reached the end of the hallway she wanted to scream out and bang her hands against the wall.

"Who the fuck lives here?!" Rose exclaimed instead, feeling it was more dignified that the hissy fit.

"That would be me," a voice spoke from the room beyond. Rose whipped her head around and saw Scorpius Malfoy sitting at an elegant oak table. He was grasping onto a coffee cup and looked absolutely exhausted. His hair was dishevelled, his eyes were slightly blood shot, and he had black bags beneath them.

The sight of Scorpius brought back some memories from the night before. She remembered that she'd run into Scorpius at the bar and they'd spent hours at the bar, talking and drinking.

* * *

"Last round of the night," the bartender spoke as he poured Rose and Scorpius one final drink. Rose had lost count of how many drinks she'd had, somewhere north of ten at least. Her head was buzzing and she felt emboldened and inhibited.

"Yuh know what?" Rose asked, her words slurring and her body weaving. Scorpius turned to look at her, but his eyes seemed to be having trouble focusing.

"No, what?" Scorpius responded, his words equally as slurred. Rose took a deep, steadying breath. Despite feeling bold because of the copious amounts of alcohol she'd consumed, she still needed a little extra support.

"Scorpius Malfoy," she spoke, her tone serious, or as serious as she could be in her inebriated state, "I've fancied you since third year." Having said her piece, Rose simply stared down Scorpius, waiting for his response.

Several minutes of silence passed between the pair as Scorpius' booze-addled mind slowly processed her words. Finally, Scorpius opened his mouth to say something.

"Closing time. Everybody out," the bar tender spoke, flipping the switch and turning the lights on. Both Rose and Scorpius shielded their eyes from the sudden brightness. Many of the other patrons did the same and grumbled about having to leave.

"You going to be alright, Rosie?" a familiar female voice asked. Rose lowered her hand and blinked a few times. Her cousin Molly was standing before her, looking slightly concerned. Behind Molly were the rest of Rose's cousins all in various states of inebriation. Albus was so far gone that he didn't even notice Scorpius at the bar.

"I'll look after her," Scorpius slurred. Molly looked sceptical at the obviously drunk blond, but Rose waved off her cousin's aid as well. Molly hesitated, but her other charges began to act up so she left Rose and Scorpius alone.

"Shall we?" Scorpius asked, standing and motioning for Rose to lead them out of the bar. Rose stood, a little unsteady in her heeled boots, and then carefully began making her way across the sticky floor. Scorpius followed closely behind her, a protective hand on her back.

Quickly, the pair spilled out on Diagon Alley. Both knew that apparating in their current state would most definitely end up in splinching. Luckily, neither lived that far away. So they decided to walk, or more accurately, stumble, to their respective homes. Under the guise of keeping the other safe, the pair linked arms and headed off into the night.

"So, you've got defensive spell training this upcoming week?" Rose asked, her previous confession long gone from her mind.

"Yeah, Mia and I are paired up again so it should be fun. Any interesting cases at St. Mungos?" As the pair stumbled down the fairly populated streets, they continued discussing their lives and careers. At points, their slurred speech made it difficult to understand, but neither seemed all that concerned.

"And this one patient refuses to tell us what is wrong with her or let us perform any tests. She just comes in every day and demands help." Rose was explaining as they walked along. Suddenly, Scorpius stopped, pulling Rose with him. The suddenness, combined with her current state, nearly sent Rose tumbling to the ground. Luckily, Scorpius was able to catch her and right her.

He had a sparkle in his eyes that made Rose very curious. What had gotten him so excited? She looked around at the buildings and people nearby, and her eyes landed on a small white chapel.

"Want to do something crazy?" he asked.

* * *

"How are you doing this morning? I don't remember much about last night, but I do remember the amount we drank. My head sure was pounding I have a hangover potion in the bathroom if you need it," Scorpius spoke as he quickly moved around the kitchen, preparing coffee and something to eat for breakfast. Rose basically collapsed into the chair at the kitchen table.

"I'm okay. Tired and I did have quite the headache. I found the potion in your bathroom, by the way. I can reimburse you for it." Scorpius, standing before the stove cooking up pancakes, waved off her offer. If Rose had been in better shape, she would have laughed at the sight of the great Scorpius Malfoy, son of an ancient wizarding family, making pancakes. It was such a domestic scene and one that definitely didn't mesh with most peoples' image of the young blond.

"So you don't remember much from last night?" Rose asked, twirling an elegant forest green cloth napkin in her hand. Seeing Scorpius had brought back some memories. Drinking for hours at the bar at the Sleazy Kneazle. Talking about their lives as healers- and aurors-in-training. Scorpius assuring her cousin Molly that he'd get her home safe. Finally, Rose remembered that she'd confessed to having fancied Scorpius for quite some time. That final memory was what had Rose twirling the napkin through her hands.

"No, I remember drinking a lot and talking to you about work. Then things get fuzzier and the next thing I remember is stumbling out into the cold night and… then I remember waking up here and immediately searching for a remedy for my headache. That's about it." Despite Rose's addled state, she picked up on the pause in between Scorpius' account of stumbling out of the bar and down the street and waking up that morning. There was something, Rose figured, that he remembered in between those two points.

Rose breathed a sigh of relief. Scorpius didn't remember her confession. If he had, he certainly would have mentioned it. For a split second, Rose considered leaving the matter there. After stumbling down the street, Rose and Scorpius had ended up both at his flat instead of Rose ending up at her own flat. She'd awoken clothed, so she could deduce that nothing much happened after arriving at Scorpius'. They were both probably so drunk that they collapsed into bed and simply fell asleep.

But then there was that thing that Scorpius had remembered and chosen not to share. Why? It had been something that both of them had experienced. Given some time, Rose may remember it on her own. Why not share it? Why keep it to himself? Rose needed to get to the bottom of it.

"You remembered something," Rose stated, staring Scorpius down as he presented her with her pancakes. Scorpius looked at her quizzically.

"Yes," he responded, drawing out the word with uncertainty. "I told you what I remembered."

"No," Rose responded, her tone defiant," you remembered something you didn't tell me about. Something that happened after we stumbled out of the Sleazy Kneazle. I'm assuming something that happened before we arrived here, but that may not be the case. Now, tell me what you remembered. I deserve to know!"

At the end of her little speech, almost as an added emphasis, Rose stood up from the small table. Her fists were clenched and her breath was quick and shallow. Scorpius looked up at her, a slightly surprised look on his face.

After several seconds of tense silence, Scorpius seemed to give in. His shoulders slumped, his posture faltered, and he hung his head. He then reached out to Rose, grabbed her wrist, and tugged on it lightly. She complied with his request and sat back down at the table.

Finally, Scorpius looked up at Rose, and his eyes looked pleading. He looked extremely guilty and, through his expression, was asking for her forgiveness. Rose tensed as a result, worried about what had happened the night before.

"After we stumbled out of the bar, we walked down several streets. On the way to – I think your flat, but I'm not sure if we actually had a destination in mind. Anyway, on the way we walked by a church and I got this crazy idea to-" Scorpius paused and took a deep breath. Rose tensed further.

"I got this crazy idea to get married."

* * *

Rose and Scorpius stood outside his flat –'their marital home' as Rose had jokingly referred to it. They were, slightly drunkenly, wound around each other; their arms and legs were wrapped around various different body parts in a fairly uncomfortable fashion. But neither party seemed to care. They were too involved with each other, too busy with their mess and passionate kissing.

The pair broke apart and Scorpius fished out his wand from his pocket. He placed it against his door and the locking mechanism opened. Having removed that obstacle, Rose and Scorpius embraced once again and stumbled into the flat.

The alcohol, and the admissions of feelings, by Rose at the bar, and by Scorpius at the church, had fuelled their passion. As they made their way down the hall towards Scorpius' bedroom, it was like powerful magnets attached them. They couldn't keep their hands off each other.

When they reached the bedroom, their kissing became more passionate and involved. Their hands began moving over the other's body more fervently. They then fell into Scorpius' bed.

The moment Rose's head and body made contact with the soft, plushy mattress and pillow, she lost all her passion. The sedative effects of the copious amounts of alcohol hit her like a steam train. Only seconds after falling into bed, Rose was sound asleep. Scorpius and the events of the night previously completely forgotten.

* * *

"Married?!" Rose exclaimed, leaping to her feet. "You thought we should-? And –and did we?" she asked the question in such a way that it was fairly clear she didn't want the answer.

In response, Scorpius simply produced a frame with a legal looking certificate. Upon closer inspection, Rose discovered that it was indeed a marriage certificate between her and Scorpius. Feeling absolutely drained by the revelation, Rose sunk back into her chair at the kitchen table.

"Why?" she managed to get out, "why did you suggest it?"

"Well," Scorpius responded, a slight smile on his face, "there was a lot of brain altering alcohol involved." He left that hanging between the two, trying to see if she'd buy it as a valid excuse.

"I guess," Rose responded, her voice hesitant, "but I've been drunk with attractive men before and never even thought about marrying them…" Rose's voice trailed off. One major difference between those previous instances and the night before was that she hadn't been in love with any of those men. And last night, she'd expressed those feelings to Scorpius. She'd thought he didn't remember, but maybe he did.

"I told you I fancied you. Last night, I said I had since third year, for nearly fifteen years. And, I don't remember, did you- did you respond?" Rose looked so helpful at what his response would be.

"I didn't at first. The bartender, and then your cousins, interrupted us. But, when I suggested getting married at the church I did." Scorpius took a shaky breath, and looked Rose right in the eye. "I said that I'd fancied you just as long, if not longer. I said that I used to bug Al into visiting with you just so I would have an excuse to be near you. I said that my feelings for you had only gotten stronger and that I've been basically in love with you since seventh year. You then responded in kind and we agreed to get married.

"I didn't want to tell you about it in case your feelings were solely alcohol fuelled. I figured you could remain oblivious. I could deal with the annulment and you would go on with your life, none the wiser."

Silence passed between the pair as Rose took in all that Scorpius had said. Finally, a wide smile crossed her face.

"I'm glad you told me. It's much easier, and more pleasant, to be married to someone when you know that's the case." Rose then cut into her pancakes and enjoyed the warm breakfast prepared by her husband.

 _The End_


End file.
